


Memories and Gestures

by tsuristyle



Category: SMAP
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8826142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuristyle/pseuds/tsuristyle
Summary: A series of drabbles, featuring Kimura/Goro and Shingo/Goro. Set in 1999-2000.(Written July-August 2009.)





	1. Memory

Goro tried to remember every detail, every sensation, to commit every last second to memory before it could be lost. The dark heat in Kimura's eyes, the taste of wine mingling vintages on his lips. The smell of his hair, the feel of shirt fabric under Goro's fingers as teeth and tongue found his neck. Denim giving way to smooth skin, Kimura's hands, rough and possessive, and thighs moving against his and heat and friction and his own voice gasping his bandmate's name into the darkness. The final raggedness of Kimura's breath as he shifted and collapsed to the side, one arm still strewn across Goro's stomach.  
  
He had to remember now, because in the morning the light would slant in through the blinds, cold and indifferent, and Kimura would look away and try to forget--  
  
The arm on his stomach moved, and Kimura lifted Goro's wrist, watching in fascination as he traced the soft skin. The gentleness of it was almost surreal. Then, abruptly, he bit Goro's hand.  
  
"What was that for?" Goro rubbed his hand, startled.  
  
"I don't do things to regret them," Kimura said, pulling the blanket up to cover them. He didn't smile; Kimura didn't reassure people that way.  
  
Goro didn't quite understand, but something relaxed in his chest anyway, and he found himself yawning. He rolled onto his side; Kimura's eyes had already settled shut. He reached out and-- lightly, hesitantly-- rested the tips of his fingers on his bandmate's wrist, certain of nothing but confident, at least, that they would both remember in the morning.


	2. A Good Father

The Kimura that Goro knew was not gentle. He was driven and competitive and playful and temperamental and unapologetically direct. In the dark, he was rough hands and sharp teeth, fierce eyes and intent kisses. He moved with a certainty that Goro trusted.  
  
When Kimura held his child for the first time, he became a person Goro didn't know. Kimura's strong arms cradled the baby against his chest, her tiny head resting in the crook of his elbow. He bent his head over hers, lightly stroking her soft hair, and smiled with wonder and uncertainty. It was the gentlest expression Goro had ever seen on him.  
  
He couldn't watch; he knew that people could be cruel without ever meaning to, but it didn't make it any less painful.

~

Goro couldn't help but stare at the bundle in his bandmate's arms. She was smaller than he'd expected, sleepy and pink and wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, and the sight of Kimura cradling her gently on the breakroom sofa made him feel suddenly out of place in a room he'd visited thousands of times.  
  
Kimura looked up, meeting his eyes. "Do you want to hold her?"  
  
He swallowed nervously. "I'm not sure if--"   
  
"It's alright." Kimura stood up before he could finish.  
  
Goro had held a baby before, when his sister had had a child, but he'd forgotten what it was like to suddenly feel the weight of a life in your arms. He balanced her awkwardly, terrified she would somehow slip and intensely aware of Kimura watching him. He looked desperately down at the little face.  
  
Two dark eyes blinked sleepily and gazed back up at him. _Oh god,_ Goro thought. _She's got his eyes_.  
  
A tiny hand slipped out of the blanket, reaching for his face with chubby fingers. Kimura stepped in close, gently intercepting it.  
  
"What do you think?" He was only a few inches away, smiling down at the baby. Goro could smell his hair, his clothes, the familiar scent of cigarette smoke.  
  
"She's beautiful," he said, honestly. He pushed her carefully back into Kimura's arms and stepped away. "I think you're going to be a good father."  
  
His bandmate looked up, the smile slipping from his face. "You do?"  
  
Goro picked up his bag. He had the ridiculous impulse to rush forward and hug Kimura, but it was just his own wishful thinking. The two of them, father and child, were a picture he didn't fit into.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
  
Kimura watched him leave. In his arms, his daughter made a distressed burbling noise; he stroked her head reassuringly, in the emptiness of the breakroom, and hugged her tightly to his chest, as tightly as he dared.


	3. Coming Back

Goro stepped into his dressing room for the first time in several months, and was greeted by Kimura glaring at him with folded arms.  
  
"I'm back," he said, wondering if his bandmate was going to chew him out again for all the trouble he'd caused.  
  
To his surprise, Kimura took two steps forward and grabbed him into a fierce hug. Goro returned it hesitantly, his hands resting lightly on Kimura's back.  
  
It lingered unexpectedly, and as Kimura pulled back, his nose brushed Goro's cheek. Goro opened his mouth to say something, but then Kimura was kissing him, tasting his lips and tongue gently, thoroughly, as though he'd been thinking about it for nearly two years.  
  
They broke apart, and Goro punched him in the face. He'd spent nearly two years _not_ thinking about it because Kimura was a married man, _dammit_.  
  
Kimura stumbled back, rubbing his jaw. They stared at each other, startled by their own actions.  
  
"Um," Goro said after a moment. "I'll get you some ice--"  
  
"No, s'okay." Kimura sat on the arm of the sofa, still holding his jaw. He winced. "Ow."  
  
Goro bit his lip, but a giggle slipped out. "It serves you right, really."  
  
Kimura looked a bit mortified, but the corners of his mouth twitched suspiciously. "Yeah," he admitted. "Well." He folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to regain some sort of composure. "Welcome back."  
  
Goro smiled at him. He felt lighter than he had in a long time. "It's good to be back."


	4. Shameless

It was completely different with Shingo.   
  
Shingo was relaxed, preferring to take his time over little details rather than rush, to the point where Goro was almost certain he was being teased. But he could be extremely creative about those details; he liked to live an innovative existence, after all. Most of all, though, Shingo was playful, one moment tracing his hand along Goro's back with surprising gentleness, the next deliberately mussing up his hair just to piss him off. Kimura had been passionate and impulsive, but he had never been _playful_ with Goro.   
  
There was another difference, too, one that Goro wasn't sure what to think of: Shingo had no problem taking initiative, but he was also perfectly content to lie back and let Goro do all the work, smiling up at him through half-lidded eyes.   
  
Goro wasn't particularly attracted to him, but his bandmate liked to push his buttons, and as much as it drove him nuts there was something comfortable about the at-odds relationship between them. That, and Shingo liked to lavish physical affection on the people close to him; Kimura seemed to be avoiding touching Goro ever since he had returned.   
  
"Hey," Shingo asked one night, with Goro straddled across his hips. "Are you still in love with him?"  
  
Goro paused. "Eh?"  
  
Shingo traced a lazy spiral on his chest. "With Kimura."  
  
Goro pushed himself up, brushing hair out of his eyes. The question sat in silence for a long moment. It was something he'd almost unconsciously avoided thinking about.  
  
"No," he finally replied. "I wasn't in love with him to start with. I don't fall in love with men."  
  
"Hmm..." Shingo sat up, peering at him skeptically. "Are you sure?"  
  
Goro wasn't sure what to say to that, but Shingo didn't wait. He twisted Goro around roughly and bit him on the back of his neck, dragging his teeth across the sensitive skin. Goro drew a sharp breath, but Shingo pushed him down and bit him again, slightly lower, and again and again, continuing down his back until Goro made an involuntary noise.  
  
Shingo stopped. "You liked that," he observed with a grin. Goro breathed, and realized he was clutching the sheets tightly with both hands. Shingo blew air across his back. "Is that why you slept with him? For rough sex?"  
  
Goro rolled onto his side, glaring at his bandmate. "That's not what it was about."  
  
"Then what was it, if you weren't in love with him?"  
  
Silence settled between them. Goro looked down at the bed, at the empty space that Shingo wasn't occupying.  
  
"It's too late to know, isn't it?" he replied, softer than he meant to.  
  
Shingo crawled forward into the empty space and wrapped his arms around Goro, hugging him tightly. "Sorry," he said, burying his face in Goro's shoulder. "I was stupid to bring it up."  
  
Goro hesitated, then slid his arms around Shingo's waist, pulling him closer. "Yeah."  
  
There was comfortable silence, and after a moment, Shingo trailed a finger down Goro's back. "Do you wanna try _that_ again?"  
  
Goro arched involuntarily, and smacked him on the head. "You're completely shameless."  
  
Shingo grinned, sitting up. "You do, don't you."  
  
Goro sighed, rolling onto his front. "It's just as well I'm only sleeping with you for the sex."  
  
"That's a relief," Shingo agreed, and bit him.


	5. Gesture

Goro shut his phone carefully, trying to focus on the discussion and not on the text he'd just received. Right now they were reviewing footage for a promotion video; there would be time to call her and ask why, what had gone wrong that could bring things to such an abrupt end...  
  
Next to him, Kimura glanced at him oddly. Goro bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to betray anything.   
  
Kimura knew him much too well. He shifted closer, casually bringing them shoulder to shoulder. "What's wrong," he muttered under his breath.  
  
Goro shook his head imperceptibly. He was still clutching his phone tightly in one hand.  
  
Kimura bumped his arm against Goro's, inconspicuous with the group focusing on the screen in front of them. For a moment, his fingers rested lightly around Goro's wrist.  
  
Goro turned his head at the gesture, but so did everyone else as Kimura cleared his throat and asked for a quick break. His fingers slipped away as the baffled director granted the request, and Goro caught his eye before turning to leave.  
  
"After," Kimura murmured. "Let me know."


End file.
